


on a summer evening (baby, you're the end of june)

by yellingatbabylon



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (can i write anything else?), Ash is just big heart-eyes literally the entire time, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Songwriting, like when i started writing this i thought to myself 'they're gonna cook and it's gonna be cute'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellingatbabylon/pseuds/yellingatbabylon
Summary: It's a scene that has a mob of butterflies flying through his stomach straight up to his heart and taking over his thoughts because Ashton suddenly finds himself knowing he would give up anything to watch this exact scene play out everyday for the rest of his life if he could. Watching this person he cares so so deeply for be warm and safe and happy andwith him.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	on a summer evening (baby, you're the end of june)

**Author's Note:**

> hello back once again with more lashton being stupid and cute. i wrote this a few weeks back but it was before i was on here so it was just over on my tumblr and now i'm here so we're spreading the love. (won't lie this was brought on by middle of the night not being able to sleep bc i was Super Stressed and then i saw that tweet luke put up a few months back where he was like 'soft domestic luke <3' and then i opened my computer and basically word vomited all of this)
> 
> i don't have too too much but if you wanna hop over to my [tumblr](https://tirednotflirting.tumblr.com/) please drop by and say hello (i'm way too chatty ask literally anyone that has started a convo w me over there) or check out more stupid soft and fluffy writing since there's just a lil bit more of it over there.

The early summer, golden hour sky is dark with swirling gray clouds and a windy rainstorm when Ashton realizes he’s in love.

There hadn’t been any rain in the forecast for the day. It was four days past the solstice so it should have been miserable out, but LA decided to give its faithful citizens a little treat in the form of a light breeze so sitting outside with a cool drink and a guitar was quite pleasurable. Which is exactly why when he received a text from Luke asking if he could play through some of the melodies he had been playing around with the past couple of weeks, Ashton replied to tell him that the front door would be open and to grab himself a drink before coming to the back deck.

Ashton locks his phone and turns when he hears the sliding door open and attempts to control the blush he feels rise to his cheeks when he watches Luke step toward the chair beside him in a white linen shirt that floats against his chest, one hand holding the neck of his guitar and a beer in the other. His hair is back in a tiny bun and his sunglasses threaten to fall off the end of his nose. He's a vision of a nice summer day, like the one they’re having right now, Ashton thinks to himself.

They spend the next couple of hours working through some of what Luke had come up with that he plays for Ashton from piecing together bits from voice notes on his phone. Luke giggles at him whenever he stumbles over some of the more technical patterns, still not a native to the strings like Luke. (And okay, yes,  _ maybe _ he was faking some of that a little bit. But it made Luke laugh in the way that his nose would scrunch up far too adorably so there was really no harm to it, he thinks.) The stuff he’s been working on is really good, Ashton repeatedly tells him. He can see all of them ending up in their future singles.

They've just started working on one of the last voice notes that Luke has when a raindrop splashes off of the body of the guitar Ashton was holding from when he had run down to his studio about halfway through the list. A matching pout appears against the lips of both boys as they gather up everything they had brought out as the raindrops pick up, their clothes dampening as they hurry through the glass door.

It’s within the next couple of minutes that the storm neither of them had noticed previously really rolls in and picks up. It's still relatively early, only about 4.30, but as Ashton stands just inside the sliding door looking up at the sky, he knows this is going to go on for a while. His weather app confirms the thought and Luke groans when he looks at the screen Ashton is holding out toward him. “Guess I should head home then?”

Ashton turns from his spot just inside the kitchen where he’s just plugged in his phone to the charger at the island. They’ve had a really good afternoon and for some reason he really  _ really _ does not want it to end. “I mean,” he starts, a hand running through the hair at the back of his neck, the ends now wet from their escape out of the storm. “I wouldn’t mind the company. Unless you’ve gotta get back to Petunia?”

Luke shakes his head quickly, a small smile appearing as the curls that have escaped his bun fly around like a little halo. “I dropped her at Cal’s place on my way here for a playdate with Duke, I'm sure he wouldn’t mind her being there awhile longer.”

Ashton tries then to control the deepening of his dimples as he nods at the response. “Well, we should change then and maybe we can break for a bit and make an early dinner?”

Luke agrees to the plan and follows Ashton down the hall to his bedroom. Ashton hunts around for a pair of sweats and a long sleeve with the band’s logo from the previous tour, the current weather allowing him to ignore the calendar for the time being in terms of wearing something cozy. He turns to face Luke and gestures towards the closet as if to say _"_ _ have at it” _ and changes on the opposite side of the room, leaving Luke to do the same inside the walk-in.

They all practically grew up living out of suitcases in shared hotel rooms, so naturally, all four of them have pieces that belong to the others in their closets. Knowing that any of his pants would run just a little bit too short on Luke, Ashton assumes Luke would go digging through the drawers for a pair of his own that are inevitably tucked away somewhere. He figures he’ll do the same with his t-shirts. So it comes as a surprise (though not one he’s even the slightest bit upset about) when Luke steps out from the closet with one of Ashton's bigger hoodies covering his upper half. The sleeves hang a bit long on Luke, his fingers able to wrap around the cuff to make sweater paws.

(Ashton silently prays that the lack of light in the room due to the storm blocking much natural light from entering will obscure the blush he  _ knows _ is boldly sitting on his cheeks at the sight.)

“Is it cool if I borrow this? Kinda chilly,” Luke asks.

“Yeah, no, of course,” Ashton nods back, knowing he answered the question far too quickly.

Luke grins his thanks. “Let's make something, I'm starving.”

Ashton soon realizes that when Luke asked if  _ they _ could make something, what he really meant was if  _ Ashton _ could make them something. Not that he minds at all, knowing that growing up as they did made learning skills around the kitchen a little difficult on the blonde. He needs to go to the store soon so he pulls out what odds and ends he can find - some chicken, some rice, random vegetables still in his produce drawer. Ashton sets to work cleaning and chopping up the vegetables after figuring out the spice situation for the chicken.

Luke watches him work silently from where he’s hopped up onto the counter, telling Ashton stories from his week. He talks about Petunia, talks about the call he had with his parents and brothers. They discuss plans for the Fourth of July (ignoring their lack of American citizenship in favor of lighting sparklers and eating loads of good food in Michael's backyard). It’s a nice, lazy (incredibly domestic, Ashton thinks) activity, catching up on the week while Ashton makes them a meal. He wonders if the simplicity of it all has Luke feeling as warm as he does.

Luke decides he wants a mug of hot chocolate and pulls the powder and milk from their respective spots, despite Ashton's complaints that it was too much sugar before a meal. Luke is stirring the powder into the microwaved-warmed mug of milk when his phone starts playing a tone letting him know he’s getting a call. He drops the spoon in the sink before reaching into the hoodie pocket and swiping his thumb across the screen. He smiles as he brings the phone to his ear. “Hey Cal, my girl behaving?”

He picks up the mug and walks out from the kitchen, standing at the sliding door that leads to the backyard, a bright smile lighting up his eyes despite the lack of sunshine from beyond the glass, obviously laughing at something Calum has just told him. Ashton reduces the heat on the pan he’s just tossed the sautéed vegetables into with the chicken, knowing the rice needs a few more minutes. He turns then to lean against the counter and look at the boy standing in his living room as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

And it's then that he feels it. Watching Luke giggle softly through his response to whatever he’s speaking with Calum about, his mug held close to his face to warm his cheeks, Ashton feels  _ something _ . He’s watching Luke comfortably move through his home, wearing Ashton’s clothes, talking to their friend as he sips from his designated favorite mug while Ashton makes him dinner. It's a scene that has a mob of butterflies flying through his stomach straight up to his heart and taking over his thoughts because Ashton suddenly finds himself knowing he would give up anything to watch this exact scene play out everyday for the rest of his life if he could. Watching this person he cares so so deeply for be warm and safe and happy and  _ with him _ . Ashton had always thought he had been in love before but now as he watches Luke's eyes squeeze shut as he laughs against the rim of the mug, the porch light illuminating his face with a soft yellow glow, he knows this is new to him and it’s love.

He's given about three seconds to process all of that before Luke turns to him. He's still smiling but his eyes give Ashton a confused look, as if asking if he’s okay. Ashton's lips turn up and he waves his hand as if to tell him to dismiss his concern. Luke lifts his mug to acknowledge the response as he lacks a free hand and turns away as he wanders to the couch.

Ashton turns back to the stove, attempting to force himself to focus on plating the food he’s made rather than the thoughts swirling and racing through his mind about the man on his sofa. He’d come to terms with this  _ crush _ a long time ago, not permitting himself to ever think about it for too long for this exact reason. He’s internally blaming the long spring of being cooped up inside his house with his thoughts when he feels a presence behind him. He moves to turn to face Luke, to try to make some joke about why he’s bugging Ashton while he cooks, when a warm hand is placed against his left hip to hold him in place while Luke holds out his phone in front of Ashton's face.

“Look at Duke and Petunia,” he coos. “They’re cuddling.”

And the picture is incredibly cute, the two dogs cozied up together on the floor in front of Calum’s couch. Ashton tells Luke this in a tone that the drummer realizes probably sounds just a little too strained to be talking about dogs napping together. The tone must have been recognized by Luke as a puzzled look falls on his face as he squeezes the hip his hand rests at and bumps his head against Ashton’s temple. “You all good?”

Ashton reaches up, rubbing at Luke’s messy curls teasingly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hungry.” He steps out of Luke’s hold then as he turns and hands him a plate, gesturing over to the bar where they can eat (his dining room table has been covered with papers since the band’s tour meetings earlier in the week) and asks Luke to grab him a water while he finishes making his own plate.

They eat relatively quickly, neither of them realizing until they sit down that they never bothered to eat lunch before working on music earlier. Luke volunteers to clean up while Ashton flips through Netflix for something to watch while they wait for the storm to pass, the radar predicting the heavier part should be past the city within the next few hours. 

Behind him, Ashton hears the dishwasher close and start a cleaning cycle as he clicks play on some indie movie that’s been sitting in his queue for awhile. He takes a seat close to one of the arms of the couch as he watches the opening credits roll. Luke flicks off the kitchen light, leaving the room dark aside from a lamp near the hall that leads to the foyer and the glow of the TV. He takes a seat beside Ashton on the couch, his head immediately falling to rest against his shoulder. 

Ashton tenses for just a moment at the pressure against his shoulder and the smell of Luke’s conditioner hitting his nose before he relaxes some. He sits up just a bit so Luke isn’t having to bend over to a weird angle to allow the position. Luke hums his thanks and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie back over his palms. 

They watch the characters on screen go about their lives in pretty normal situations that indie movies tend to be fond of romanticizing. Ashton still feels warm with all of his feelings and butterflies flapping around in his body when he feels a hand reach for his own, fingers slipping into the spots between his own, a slightly smaller palm pressing against his. He turns his head just slightly but makes no move to change the position, only moving their clasped hands to rest against his lap as Luke’s thumb rubbing gently against his first knuckle.

“Days with you are nice,” Luke says softly, so much so that Ashton barely hears him over the dialogue happening between the characters on the screen. “And slow.”

Ashton lets out a laugh, one he hopes doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. “Slow?” 

“They feel slower, but like,” he stops the motion of his thumb for a minute and Ashton lets his head tilt some to rest against Luke’s curls. “But a good kind of slow? Like the universe is allowing more time to fit into hours somehow.”

Ashton’s heart is  _ soaring _ at his words. It practically leaves him at a loss for words himself. “Nice of the universe to let us have that, I guess.”

“I feel pretty lucky, yeah.”

That’s all he says then, his focus returning back to the screen. Ashton isn’t quite sure what the short exchange just then meant but he can tell that it meant  _ something _ and for now he decides that’s good enough. He wants to be big and bold but it’s obvious that Luke likes slow things. And Ashton really likes Luke. So he can do his best to do slow, for him.

He lifts his head then and shifts some to allow his hand to stay pressed against Luke’s but moves to rest against the fluffy arm of the sofa on his left. It’s still pretty early but Ashton suddenly feels so sleepy. He’s silently debating with himself about whether or not it's his racing mind or the cluster of butterflies still flying between his head and his heart when he lets his eyes drift shut.

(It’s about twenty minutes later that Luke carefully slides a pillow under Ashton’s head and drapes a blanket over him, knowing he’s prone to getting cold during the night. He quietly moves about to slip his boots back on and leave his empty mug in the sink. He considers going back to the bedroom to change into one of the shirts he knows actually belongs to him in Ashton’s closet before heading out. But then he catches a whiff of Ashton’s sunshiney, bright cologne on the collar and thinks about the look in his eye when he saw Luke walk out of the closet in it earlier and decides he can’t bear to part with it tonight - the hoodie of course, not the way he felt from that look. Definitely not the look.)


End file.
